by

Alex van der Ham

(Nov. 2024)

Friday the 13th of September, I travelled to Görlitz to vacation for a few days following a week-long conference in Rostock. Among the sites I visited was the Upper Lusatian Library of Sciences – a scientific library first established in 1727, and by now home to ~150,000 books and manuscripts of various kinds. Whilst slowly moving passed the seemingly endless rows of books, my eyes were drawn to one collection of books in particular: Literarisches Centralblatt it said on the spine. I took a picture with my phone and left it at that. But, sitting in the train back to Göttingen, I couldn’t help but wonder what these books were about. A quick Wikipedia search learned that this Centralblatt is one of several such literary journals that arose during the late 18th century, with the aim of providing review and critique of literary works. Think of it as a kind of public peer review! The Literarisches Centralblatt für Deutschland in particular was established in 1850 in Leipzig, by the Germanist Friedrich Zarncke, and appeared uninterrupted until the Second World War put an end to it in 1944. With my curiosity now peaked, I had to know what was inside all of these tomes. Fortunately, many of these old books are digitized and available online, and for no particular reason I picked the 1876 edition and started scrolling through the pages.[i] The university of Göttingen was frequently mentioned, highlighting its importance in those days, and one small advertisement in particular caught my attention:

We start with a little history lesson: After the Seventh Coalition defeated Napoleon Bonaparte at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, the area now encompassed by the country of Poland was divided between the Russian Empire and the Kingdom of Prussia. In between, a relatively small piece of land, known as the Grand Duchy of Posen, was to retain some degree of autonomy, and have the privilege of retaining a Polish identity. In practice, however, the Kingdom of Prussia would tightly control this area, even renaming it to the Province of Posen in 1849, emphasizing its subordinate status. It is here, in the small village of Althöfchen (pl: Stary dworek), that Eduard Friedrich Kärger was born to an evangelical family on 29 March 1843.[iii] Like many places in the region, Althöfchen founded by German settlers as early as the 13th century, reflecting a longstanding German influence in the region.[xiii] His family relationships cannot be pinpointed with certainty, but he likely had a brother, Karl Georg Wilhelm Kärger, who was five years his senior.[iv] Together, they were among the 366 inhabitants of this inconspicuous village on the Obra river.[v] The summer semester of 1856, a few days before turning 13, Eduard Kärger started learning at the Pädagogium of Züllichau (pl: Sulechów),[vi] about 70 km to the south of Althöfen. Pädagogia were educational institutions with above-average performance requirements, having a bit of an elitist character. It was here, that he met Wilhelm Erler, who was a math teacher there at the time, and to whom Kärger would later attribute his doctoral dissertation. Nine years later, at the age of 22, he finished school, and left to study mathematics and natural sciences at the Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität in Berlin (1865 – 1869). Eduard Kärger’s maths professor there was none other than the aforementioned Karl Weierstraß, a mathematician often heralded as the "father of modern analysis". Kärger graduated by the summer semester of 1869, at the same time his brother received his Baumeister (architect) certificate,[vii] and less than a month after passing the pro facultate docendi (28 June 1870), which gave him the right to teach, he was called to join the army to fight in the Franco-Prussian war (19 July 1870 – 28 January 1871). He served as Vizefeldwebel in the Leib-Grenadier-Regiments (1. brandenburgischen) Nr. 8, being promoted to Second Lieutenant of the Reserve on 13 May 1871.(source; source p. 552) He stayed in the army after the war, and well passed the mandatory conscription time, being decorated with the Landwehr Dienstauszeichnung 1. Klasse, 28 April 1898,[ii] which was awarded only after a minimum of 20 years of active, impeccable service as an officer in the armed forces.

Returning seemingly unharmed, he left his brother in Berlin and moved to Rawitsch (pl: Rawicz) to start his teaching career 15 August the same year, as candidate teacher at the local Realschule.[viii] One year later he moved to Poznan, where he would spend the largest part of his life. Easter 1872, he started as assistant teacher at the Berger Oberrealschule, ultimately becoming Senior teacher by 1890.[viii] Address books from the time show Eduard Kärger started his journey in Poznan living on the Langestraße 7,[ix] but would, inexplicably, live at six different locations before leaving Poznan for good in 1899 when, at the age of 56, he moved to Schneidemühl (pl: Piła).[x] During his time in Poznan, he obtained his doctoral degree 14 June 1875 from the Georg August Universität of Göttingen,[xi] clearing the way to obtain the title of professor, which he would receive 16 March 1893.[iii] In 1898, he received the rank of Geheimrat 4th Class. Originally, members of the Geheimrat advised the Emperor on matters of state (cf. privy council), but by the 19th century, it had become mostly an honorary title. Starting the summer semester of the year 1900, now professor Kärger would teach mathematics, calculus and physics at the Gymnasium of Schneidemühl, which occupied him for about 20 hours a week, until his retirement in 1911, at the age of 68.[viii, p-q] It is not known what happened to him after his retirement. All we know is that he did not return to Poznan, nor is he listed in the address book of Schneidemühl from 1930, at which point he would have been 87 years old. One hypothesis was that he may have succumbed to the little-known typhoid fever epidemic which erupted in Schneidemühl in the summer of 1911, but further research provided evidence to the contrary.[xii] 

Whatever the case may be, Kärger likely died a proud Prussian. Having been born to German parents, he grown up in an area of the Prussian Empire that was gradually becoming more and more German. For example, in 1873, the requirement of the Polish language being taught in schools was lifted, although it remained an option at the digression of individual schools (source). Second, the year books of the schools he taught at mention him several times as having given speeches on occasions important to the Prussians, such as Sedantag, which celebrates the capture of the French town of Sedan during the Franco-Prussian war, or the birthday of the Emperor.

Lastly, it is recorded that on 10 October 1875, he donated 75 Goldmarks (~€740 in today's money!) to the Hanow-Stiftung; a fund established in 1873 (source), intended to support current and former pupils of the Pädagogium in Züllichau, named after the late director of the school dr. Rudolf Hanow.

The investigation of this figure started with an announcement of his doctoral dissertation. So, what is it about? Luckily, the historical archive of the University of Göttingen still holds a copy. Following the legacy of his teachers Weierstraß and Erler, Kärger’s dissertation focuses on solving the differential equations that describe the effect of a force acting on a moving object. Originally proposed by sir Isaac Newton himself in the late 17th century, these equations, which are relevant in describing the motion of celestial bodies, have been challenging mathematicians to this day.[xiv] Indeed, the choice of Kärger to obtain a doctorate in Göttingen might, at first glance, appear to be related to the fact that the university there was famous for its leading role in astronomy research, headed by Carl Gauss and Wilhelm Weber. However, there is something unusual about his dissertation. Kärger lived in Poznan at the time, some 600 kilometers away from Göttingen. It thus seems improbable he forewent his teaching duties to travel all the way there and back. Moreover, Eduard Kärger was foremost a teacher, not a scholar. He did not publish any research articles outside of his dissertation, nor is he recorded as having given any lectures at any university. Combined with the fact that his dissertation is attributed to his high school teacher rather than any doctoral supervisor, all evidence points in the direction of his doctorate likely having been received in absentia. 

Contrary to our modern conception of a Ph.D., pre-18th century, a doctoral degree not only marked a person’s academic progress, but also carried quasi-legal status. The social and economic significance of a doctorate thus often outweighed its academic value. Because of this, from the late-18th century onwards, examinations and the awarding of degrees gradually came under state control, in an effort to standardize the rules among the various universities. In a time where in European academia oral discussions were the primary form of scientific exchange, the most important among the imposed rules was the requirement for a Disputation. Equivalent to an oral defense nowadays, the Disputation entailed the public defense of the scientific work and accompanying propositions against a group of peers. A formal, written dissertation like we know today was usually provided by the supervisor of the to-be doctor, often without their name being mentioned. By the 19th century, promotion in absentia became somewhat of a norm. This meant a doctorate was obtained simply by sending in a dissertation by post, without oral defense, and often against payment. One exemplary case of the more than lenient attitude regarding doctorates is that of Adolph Friedrich Frank Funk, a student at the University of Jena, who in 1815 wrote to the Dean of the university, requesting a doctoral degree for the reduced price of 30 thalers, promising to “pay the remainder if he ever returned to Jena”. Three days later, his request was granted without examination, ostensibly in support of his patriotic decision to join the army.[xv] 

It should be noted that there are famous examples of brilliant scientists obtaining their doctors’ title in absentia, like the aforementioned Carl Gauss for his groundbreaking work in mathematics, or Sofya Kovalevskaya, another student of Weierstraß, who was the first female Ph.D. in mathematics, also awarded by the university of Göttingen. In general, however, this practice was frowned upon, and is the reason why thousands of 19th century gymnasial teachers, but also pastors, jurors, small businessmen and the like, all ended up receiving doctoral degrees. Universities like the ones in Göttingen and Jena, were notorious participants in these practices, which served as a much-welcomed source of additional revenue for cash-strapped professors. The University of Jena, for example, granted nearly 1,800 doctorates between 1832 and 1865, with only 19 of those not awarded in absentia. Indeed, most candidates pursued a doctorate not for its academic merit, but for social prestige, class advancement, or as a prerequisite for non-academic careers.

Thus, by obtaining his doctorate in absentia, Kärger was simply fulfilling the expectations people had of teachers at the time. It was expected of him as a gymnasial teacher to become a doctor, with a professorship awarded to him in recognition of his seniority, after 27 years of teaching. His interest in the natural sciences was a genuine one though. This is evidenced by him attending a “vacation course of natural sciences for teachers” in Berlin, during the summer break of 1897.[xvi] A follow-up after the 1896 Great Industrial Exposition, he and a group of over 40 teachers from all across Germany, visited a number of science related sites in the city, including the “Great Refractor” in Treptow, the largest movable telescope to date, a botanical garden, the cities electrical works, and many others.